


These Things Happen To Other People

by A_M_Kelley



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Extended Universe, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Clark, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Clark Kent Isn't Superman, Dirty Talk, Emotionally Constipated Clark, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Gentle Sex, Hopeful Ending, It's the triple threat, M/M, Making Love, Morning After, Morning Sex, Naked Cuddling, One Night Stands, Pillow Talk, Pre-Relationship, Rough Sex, There's a Joker reference in there is what I'm saying, Top Bruce, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7871224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_M_Kelley/pseuds/A_M_Kelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Clark’s eyes appear to sparkle in the early morning light and his usually tame hair is all mussed, making him look all sorts of debauched and otherworldly. Bruce didn’t notice it until now, but there’s a glimmer of brown in Clark’s left eye. Bruce smirked. It seemed there <b>was</b> something flawed about Clark after all. Too bad it only made him even more perfect.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Things Happen To Other People

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from She's An Angel by TMBG.
> 
> So, this story turned into a monster _real_ fast... It was supposed to be a quick little fluffy snippet of Bruce admiring Clark while he slept and it was already a pre-established relationship, but mutated into something completely fluffy, smutty, and angsty. What can I say?

Bruce has been laying here, watching Clark sleep soundly, for christ knows how long. All he knows is that once the sun came up he wasn’t able to go back to sleep, so he opted to concentrate on the sound of Clark’s soft breathing. The undulation of Clark’s bare chest was mesmerising in the way that fireworks captivated spectators on the Fourth of July. The silk blankets adorning Bruce’s bed had pooled down around Clark’s waist some time ago from when he unconsciously tossed and turned and it greeted Bruce with a sight that left little to the imagination.

Last night, they had sex for the first time and neither of them had been willing enough to bother with putting at least some underwear on afterwards. Not that there was much point in doing so. Bruce saw Clark in more than enough compromising positions to last a lifetime, so cuddling with no clothes on was hardly something to be adverse to. Especially when the blankets clung to Clark in such a way that it outlined his lower half _beautifully_.

Still, there was something about it all that seemed too _intimate_ to Bruce at the time. Then again, Bruce usually rolls out of bed the moment he wakes up to escape the fact that he had a one night stand prior. This time was different. Something about Clark pulled him into a state of hypnosis. Everything about Clark was beautiful if Bruce were being honest with himself.

There wasn’t one moment where Clark would be perceived as unflattering. He was gorgeous in bed last night with the way he panted and moaned Bruce’s name, begging softly for more. Or the way his lips parted ever so slightly, tweaking his perfect jawline for a brief moment. He was handsome even before Bruce took him home. Clark hid behind everyday clothing and a pair of black rimmed glasses, but damn did he look stunning.

Even now as the reporter lays undisturbed in the privacy of _the_ Bruce Wayne’s bed, he still manages to look absolutely breathtaking and it’s not fair in the slightest. But the sight of Clark laying naked in his bed with a thin sheet of silk covering him is what wet dreams are made of and Bruce wouldn’t dare miss a second of it. Besides, who knows how many times he’ll get to see Clark like this?

Clark shifted beside him, rolling onto his side facing Bruce and sighed deeply through his nose as if sensing Bruce’s attention. Slowly, his lashes flutter and his eyes open to the sight of Bruce casually staring at him already. Clark’s mouth pulled to one side in an amusing smirk, unable to stop himself from feeling a little put on the spot by someone like Bruce Wayne openly studying him as he slept.

“What are you doing up so early?” Clark asked groggily, shifting closer to Bruce out of habit.

“Couldn’t go back to sleep,” Bruce told him with a deep, raspy rumble. “Decided to watch you instead.”

“I hope I didn’t drool all over myself,” Clark gushed with a brief laugh.

“You were gorgeous,” Bruce stated earnestly, making the color in Clark’s cheeks rise.

“We’ve already had sex, Bruce,” Clark reminded, mistaking Bruce’s flattery as nothing more than a ploy to _butter him up_. “You don’t need to woo me with sweet nothings and cheesy pillow talk.”

Clark’s eyes appear to sparkle in the early morning light and his usually tame hair is all mussed, making him look all sorts of debauched and otherworldly. Bruce didn’t notice it until now, but there’s a glimmer of brown in Clark’s left eye. Bruce smirked. It seemed there _was_ something flawed about Clark after all. Too bad it only made him even more perfect. It’s at this moment when Bruce realized Clark’s lips were moving and he blinked out of his reverie.

“I'm sorry, what was that? I was too busy getting lost in your eyes,” Bruce teased with a pleased little smirk, trying to act as if that wasn’t actually the case.

“Please, spare me,” Clark groaned with a roll of his eyes.

“And here I thought a man like you would appreciate those things,” Bruce rebutled. He noticed the way Clark’s expression slightly faltered. “You seem like the type of guy who loves being showered in compliments and being told how beautiful you are.”

“Somehow the romantic gesture feels ingenuine coming from a person like you,” Clark said before he could stop himself despite wanting to hear more.

“I'm not what the papers make me out to be, Mr. Kent,” Bruce defended, trying to ignore the fact that this is why he usually rolls out of bed. To avoid conversations like this. “Don’t believe everything you read.”

“It’s hard not to with a track record like yours,” Clark retorted.

“Did you at least enjoy yourself last night?” Bruce inquired even though the answer was plainly obvious. Bruce isn’t trying to sound full of himself, but he never disappoints.

“How could I not?” Clark admitted with no shame, curling in closer to Bruce until they were mere inches apart. He draws his knee up to gently brush it against Bruce’s exposed groin, making the older man groan deep in his throat. “Especially with a body and cock like that. It’s almost a shame that I won’t get a round two with you. Some would even call it a crime.”

“Why stop there?” Bruce growled, wrapping an arm around Clark’s waist to press their bodies flush against each other.

“I think you’re forgetting the definition of a one night stand, Mr. Wayne,” Clark murmured, lightly brushing his lips over Bruce’s in an intimate gesture.

“Who said anything about a one night stand?” Bruce challenged, pressing his hips into Clark ever so slightly to make the other man gasp softly.

“Well, lovemaking usually comes after a few dates, whereas a one night stand is just raw, intense fucking without the preamble,” Clark informed slowly, tracing each word against Bruce’s lips. “And, from what I recall, we had the latter and _not_ the former.”

They’re both breathing heavily by this point, clearly turned on by the whole argument they seem to be having, and the pent up difference of opinion seemed to make this whole encounter _that_ much more arousing. Something about testing each other’s patience was unbearingly hot to the point where Clark seriously wouldn’t mind getting railed by Bruce again even though he was still sore from last night.

“What if I just couldn’t wait that long to have you?” Bruce proposed, soaking Clark’s perfect lips with his heavy and labored panting. “What if I was willing to make it up to you by starting over and doing _this_ the more traditional way?”

“And what, pray tell, do you call _this_?” Clark questioned, genuinely curious as to where Bruce was going with this.

“An opportunity to start something neither of us are used to,” Bruce said vaguely, but Clark understood what he was getting at. “I could start by getting out of bed, taking a quick shower, and making you the best damn breakfast you’ve ever had and we can go from there…”

"Or..?” Clark trailed off, sensing there was more to Bruce’s plan.

“ _Or_ , I could fuck you silly into this mattress until the frame breaks and _then_ I could make you breakfast,” Bruce added with a low, husky tone filled to the brim with lust. “It just depends on how hungry you are right now.”

“Breakfast does sound really tempting,” Clark contemplated, biting his bottom lip as Bruce stared at him with a feral expression. “But I'm not hungry for food.”

“And you’re scolding me for being the insatiable one,” Bruce mocked when Clark brought a hand up to run it all over Bruce’s broad chest.

“What can I say? You have a way of _rubbing off_ on people,” Clark purred, nipping at Bruce’s mouth playfully. “If you know what I mean.”

“Weren’t you the one who wanted more than a quick fuck?”

“ _I_ said I could go for round two,” Clark reiterated, backpedaling to prove Bruce wrong. “ _You_ were the one who brought all the romantic stuff into the fold.”

“You try too hard to act like you’re not the least bit interested,” Bruce observed, knowing that Clark was only acting this way because he was wary of letting himself fall in love at the slightest bit of sweet talk. “You don’t have to be afraid, Clark.”

“Afraid? Of what?” Clark asked perplexed, furrowing his eyebrows. “I already took your cock last night. There ain’t a _damn_ thing I’m afraid of.”

“You’re afraid of getting your heart broken,” Bruce pointed out, rubbing the tip of his nose against Clark’s in an eskimo kiss.

“That would imply that I'm already in love,” Clark discerned, nudging back at Bruce with his nose.

“Anything’s possible in the span of one night,” Bruce offered, cupping the side of Clark’s face before kissing him tenderly.

It took Clark’s breath away in the best way possible and he loathed it at the same time. This is why Clark could never get into the whole _one night stand_ subculture, because in the end Clark would fall in love with the guy and Clark had higher aspirations than being some rich guy’s boy toy. But Bruce kissed like he meant it and it left Clark _really_ torn…

“Say in this _bizarro world_ of yours that I _was_ in love with you, how does this affect you?” Clark proposed, breaking away from the kiss.

“Well, in this so called _bizarro world_ , as you put it, I’d say that it affects me greatly,” Bruce said slowly, pausing only to kiss Clark once again. “Because I’d already be madly in love with you.”

“Are you also a filthy liar in this scenario?” Clark huffed in disbelief, but he still remained closely pressed against to Bruce’s strong and powerful body.

“I’d have to be insane not to be in love with you,” Bruce admitted, clearly breaking from the hypothetical and just owning up to his attraction to Clark.

“And you came to this conclusion after, what? One night of hot and sweaty sex?” Clark mocked, snorting as he made a move to sit up in bed. “I don’t appreciate being patronized, Bruce.”

Bruce shot up just as quickly as Clark and promptly grabbed the man by the wrist to keep him from leaving prematurely. Bruce pulled the younger man back into his embrace, holding him close so that their chests were undulating in unison. Clark is taken aback by the sudden urgency in Bruce’s actions and he all but melted into the broader man’s touch. Clark was left wanting as Bruce held his gaze with an intense stare of his own.

“I told you. Anything’s possible,” Bruce repeated before leaning in to claim Clark’s lips in a hungry kiss.

Clark got swept away in a flurry of bruising kisses, panting hotly as Bruce caressed him with calloused hands. Bruce’s hands were everywhere in such a short period of time. They roamed all over Clark’s chest, exploring the defined creases of his body, until they came up to scratch at Clark’s scalp and gently tug on his hair. It sent shivers down the younger man’s spine, making him moan softly into Bruce’s lips.

Bruce slowly leaned further into Clark’s space, lowering him back down against the bed until Clark wordlessly complied. Clark shifted slightly and his legs fell open, granting Bruce enough access to slot his body in between his thighs. Bruce’s arousal nudged against Clark’s body in a more intimate way in this position and it made them both pull back to catch their breath.

“God, you’re so damn beautiful,” Bruce professed, panting heavily when Clark arched his body into his.

Clark rubbed the curve of his shapely ass along Bruce’s hardness, hoping to coax out some groans or growls from the older man. He succeeds in getting Bruce to rub himself against his perineum and briefly nudge against his entrance. He’s still a little wet down there from last night, not to mention there’s still a certain lingering ache within his body just from the feeling of Bruce’s cock pushing into him with purpose.

“How did I ever convince you to go home with me?” Bruce postulated, gripping Clark by the waist.

“I believe your exact words were _’I'm Bruce Wayne’_ ,” Clark replied, pushing back against Bruce’s groin and rubbing his own hard on against the older man’s abdomen in the process. “I couldn't possibly say no to that.”

Clark brought his hands up to run them all over Bruce’s broad shoulders and down the front of his chest. He really did have an amazing body, but that was a given. There wasn’t one person in the world that hadn’t fantasized about the billionaire _at least_ once. Getting to actually live out the fantasy was a different subject altogether. You could even say Clark was one of the lucky few to experience that firsthand.

“You know, it’s really hard to tell what you want half the time,” Bruce expressed as he ran his hands up and down the expanse of Clark’s thighs, coaxing the man beneath him to raise his legs up around his waist. “First you compliment me, then you criticize me the moment I try to make things just a little more romantic… Now you want my cock again.”

“What do you want me to say?” Clark asked out of genuine curiosity, feeling guilty for giving off mixed signals.

“Just tell me what you want, and we’ll go from there,” Bruce murmured huskily in his lover’s ear, hair hanging down to tickle the side of Clark’s face.

“Right now, I want you to fuck me,” Clark proclaimed, nipping at Bruce’s lips. He even reached down to wrap a hand around Bruce’s arousal to get his point across. “Is that clear enough for you?”

“Say no more,” Bruce chuckled, kissing Clark hungrily on the lips.

He ran a hand down one of Clark’s thighs until he reached the curve of his lover’s ass and curled his fingers inward. His fingertips brushed against Clark’s damp entrance, causing the younger man to lightly gasp at the feeling. The skin felt soft and slightly puffy from the previous night’s activities and it made Bruce feel more inclined to be gentle with Clark so as not to hurt him. Clark didn’t seem on board with the idea, however, since he seemed more impatient than anything.

“You’re not gonna break me, Bruce,” Clark whined, wrapping his legs around Bruce’s waist to press him closer. “I _need_ you. _Now_.”

“ _Alright…_ But don’t complain when you’re too sore to move later,” Bruce warned with a predatory grin.

“I’m actually counting on it,” Clark retorted with a sultry tone.

Bruce grabbed Clark just under the backs of his knees and pushed his legs toward his chest to reveal the younger man further. Clark took this as his cue to help by propping his legs up so Bruce could line himself up with his body. Clark shuddered when he felt the head of Bruce’s cock pushing against the somewhat lax resistance of his entrance. The older man teased the rim of Clark’s hole by rubbing the tip back and forth a few times until Clark whined impatiently.

“Come on, give it to me,” Clark bemoaned, begging pathetically like he hadn’t just got fucked last night.

The man above him smirked and pushed in all the way without preamble and it knocked the wind out of Clark. Clark groaned like he just got punched in the stomach and his body automatically clamped down around Bruce, enveloping him in tight heat. Clark let out a low moan and threw his arms around Bruce’s neck, holding him tightly between his thighs. It was as if his whole body went tense all at once.

Bruce grabbed Clark by the wrists and pinned them down against the pillow above his head. There was strength hidden beneath the surface of Clark’s submissive nature, that much was plainly obvious, but he chose wordlessly comply to Bruce even though he could easily rival Bruce’s strength. Somehow that made the situation that much more hotter.

The sight of Clark was intoxicating. He had his head thrown back enough to expose his creamy neck and bobbing adam’s apple. His lips were parted just a fraction of an inch and noises tumbled out of him in an endless stream of incoherent babble. His chest moved shallowly up and down, making his abdomen contract and expand in a hypnotic rhythm.

“So sexy,” Bruce whispered as he bent down to bite at Clark’s neck.

He pulled out of Clark all the way and thrusted back in jaggedly enough to make the younger man gasp all while he sucked at the perfect skin of Clark’s neck. He would be marked up something fierce after this encounter and he’ll probably get a lot of curious gazes at work. Bruce entertained the idea of Clark going out of his way to try and conceal the love bites from his coworkers because after all that was said and done, Clark was still a self conscious type of guy.

He talked big in the privacy of one’s bed, but Bruce highly doubted Clark was the type to commit PDA in the real world. Holding hands would probably be pushing it. Clark liked to keep his personal life private from prying eyes and Bruce could totally respect and get on board with that. If that’s what it took, Bruce was willing to go the distance. But that wasn’t up for debate right now.

Clark’s wrists flexed in Bruce’s big hands, bringing the older man back to reality as he whined for Bruce to move. Bruce obliged and began thrusting deeply and slowly within Clark to make him mewl. His hips snapped against Clark’s ass, driving himself into his lover’s tender body like it was crucial to his survival. Clark’s legs seemed to clamp tighter around Bruce’s waist, urging him silently for _more_ and _harder_.

“Fuck me like you mean it,” Clark begged, panting like an animal in heat.

And Bruce doesn’t disappoint. He clutched Clark’s wrists as tightly as he could, pinning him further into the mattress, and drove harder into his pliant body. Clark winced slightly, losing his breath for a moment until he settled into the rhythm Bruce was going for. Sounds were being pushed out of him as Bruce thrusted more forcefully inside him, coaxing some interesting noises from Clark he hadn’t heard the night before.

“Like this? Is this how you like it?” Bruce taunted all while he kept up his unwavering pace. “You need it to be fast and unforgiving, don’t you? Keeps you from getting any ideas of romance, doesn’t it?”

“Just shut up and keep fucking me, Bruce,” Clark groaned, trying to concentrate on Bruce’s thrusts.

“And what if I did this?” Bruce inquired, slowing down to catch his breath as well as make a point.

His hips were slowly pumping in and out of Clark almost tenderly and it made Clark whine in frustration. This isn’t what he wanted. Clark didn’t want slow and gentle, he _needed_ it hard and bruising so that it destroyed any hope for something _real_. Clark was easily tricked into thinking he was in love and he needed to be dissuaded early on to spare himself from the disappointment. But even as he begged Bruce to go faster, he felt his resolve crumbling because Bruce wasn’t listening.

“What if I made love to you instead?” Bruce offered, dropping down to kiss the love bites on Clark’s neck softly. His voice was a mere murmur and his breath was sultry as it ghosted all over pale skin. “I could be so gentle. I could make you come at the slightest touch and you’d be begging me for more. You’d never want it fast again. You’d do anything to make it last as long as possible.”

He let go of Clark’s wrists and went to caress his body. Clark’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up to see Bruce already staring at him, much like he had this morning. Clark kept his hands above his head because he didn’t know what to do. So instead, he just laid there staring up at Bruce as the older man pet him like a pampered cat. He couldn't help but let the blush high on his cheekbones seep through a little when Bruce praised him for being a _pretty boy_.

And still, Bruce was thrusting into him during the whole ordeal. Bruce was running his hands all over Clark’s chest and raking blunt nails down his abdomen as he slowly pushed himself in and out of Clark. They held eye contact throughout it all as well, watching each other sigh and bite their lip in concentration as the tension built up within them. Clark hated to admit it, but this was actually pretty nice compared to how he usually took it. He still couldn’t stop from making a snarky comment, however.

“I could have swore you promised to _fuck me silly until the frame broke_ earlier,” Clark huffed, panting hotly as he reached out to grasp at Bruce’s shoulders for support.

“I also promised you breakfast and look how that turned out,” Bruce rebuttled with a smirk. “We still got plenty of time for that later.”

“Oh? How do you know I'm not in a hurry?” Clark asked, breath hitching in the middle of his sentence when Bruce thrusted especially shallow inside him.

“If you were, you wouldn’t be letting me make love to you right now,” Bruce revealed, smiling as he bent down to nip along Clark’s jawline.

“Is that what this is? _Making love_?” Clark humored, knowing the answer.

“I thought I made that abundantly clear,” Bruce said, thrusting gently into his lover.

“I was hoping you were teasing me,” Clark admitted, but he held onto Bruce either way when the other man buried his face into his neck and scooped him up in his strong arms. “Like it was some elaborate joke.”

“We prefer not to _joke_ in Gotham,” Bruce stated in a serious tone with a somewhat haunted look in his eye.

“I guess I'm just not used to this sort of thing,” Clark apologized when he noticed a change in Bruce’s demeanor. “These things don’t usually happen to people like me.”

“They do now,” Bruce murmured, sitting up and bringing Clark with him in a sweaty bundle.

Bruce was sitting back on his legs as he held Clark in his lap and supported the beautiful man in his strong arms. He leant forward and kissed him chastely, attempting to thrust his hips up into Clark gently. Clark made an effort to move himself over Bruce’s cock as well to help better angle the older man’s shallow jabs. Soon they were both a panting mess as they over exerted themselves in this position.

The morning light shined through the big glass windows of Bruce’s bedroom and reflected perfectly off of Clark, illuminating him in an ethereal way. He looked absolutely stunning like this: panting and trying his best to impale himself further onto Bruce’s cock with a strand of mussed hair dangling over his forehead. The light made his eyes sparkle, letting Bruce get another glimpse of the speck of brown in Clark’s left iris.

Bruce brought one of his hands back around and dropped it down between their joined bodies to wrap it around Clark’s cock. He stroked it languidly to the motion of their combined efforts and he had Clark whimpering in no time flat. Despite his determination to remain indifferent to the whole idea of _love making_ , Clark was easily letting himself get carried away as he gyrated his hips against Bruce and let out some of the most exquisite sounds Bruce has ever heard a bed partner make.

He isn’t sure what does him in. It could be the way Clark’s body is clenching perfectly all around him or the fact that Clark is too beautiful whilst in the throes of passion, it could possibly be both of those things, but Bruce is lost on his impending climax either way. Bruce stroked Clark faster, smearing pre come all over his length to make for better friction, and cradled him with his free arm to better position himself so he could thrust up into Clark as he was coming down.

“Don’t stop,” Clark panted, thrusting a little faster than he had previously. Clark wrapped his arms around Bruce's back and clutched to the rippling muscles, moaning in the older man’s ear as if to coax him on. “You feel so good inside me, Bruce.”

“Fuck, I'm so close. Keep talking,” Bruce requested, loving the sound of Clark’s husky bedroom voice.

Clark blushed, feeling put on the spot but insanely turned on all at the same time. He didn’t even know what to say. What did Bruce want to hear anyway?

“I love feeling your hands all over my body,” Clark said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. He’s never done this sort of thing before. “The way you pet me makes me feel special. Like I only belong to you.”

“You are special,” Bruce affirmed, breath hitching as he thrusted up into Clark’s body. “So beautiful…”

“And you’re strong. So strong, Bruce,” Clark murmured into his lover’s ear, pressing their sweaty bodies closer. “Your powerful shoulders and your big hands man handling like I weigh nothing.”

“ _More_ ,” Bruce pleaded, meeting each other halfway on every thrust.

“God, you drive me absolutely crazy, Bruce,” Clark proclaimed, throwing his head back and making it his life's mission to ride Bruce with everything he’s got. “I can’t stand how perfect and handsome you are. How passionate and gentle you can be. How your stubble burns every time you kiss me… I can’t fucking _take it_!”

There’s a moment of pure clarity between the two and in the pinnacle of Clark’s climax he thoughtlessly let’s his mind wander and blurt out the thing that’s been teetering on the tip of his tongue since this whole thing started.

“Fuck, I love you, Bruce,” Clark cried, clamping down on Bruce’s cock as he spurted all over himself and his lover’s hand.

He heard Bruce gasp at that and pulled back slightly to hold Clark’s gaze in his own, staring wide eyed at the young, debauched man before him coming undone.

“Say it again,” Bruce begged with a hint of desperation. “ _Please_ …”

Clark realized what he said and instead of feeling mortified, he actually felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. He wasn’t sure if that’s how he _genuinely_ felt, but it seemed right at the time, and if Bruce needed him to say it once more than he couldn’t possibly deny him.

“I love you, Bruce,” Clark repeated and it felt just as natural as the first time. He squirmed and whined on Bruce’s pulsating cock and added, “Please come inside me.”

It was as if Bruce was being given permission, that much was apparent by the sound that accompanied Bruce’s orgasm. He wailed into Clark’s neck like a wounded animal and his cock jerked spastically inside of Clark’s tight body, emptying himself in bold strides that left Clark feeling full and moist. Bruce pulled Clark in for a tender kiss as an afterthought and when they parted, Clark swore he saw a tear rolling down the side of Bruce’s face.

“Thank you,” Bruce whispered, resting his damp forehead against Clark’s.

Both of their chests were undulating as if they just ran a mile and their bodies ached, but neither of them could move, or wanted to for that matter. Clark was still in shock over the intense orgasm and what he had said. Bruce was still inside him, but softening slowly, and it made Clark wince the moment it slipped out of him. He remained seated on Bruce’s lap even when he could feel the other’s release seeping out of him. The whole situation felt intimate of so many levels.

“I love you, Clark,” Bruce admitted in a ragged voice that sounded so raw and broken.

It was clear that he meant it, though Clark didn't have a lot of experience discerning the genuine admissions from the false. In any case, it made his heart stop at how vulnerable Bruce looked in the early morning daylight. There was nothing he could hide behind. Bruce was naked both literally and figuratively before Clark and Clark didn’t know how to handle it. What was he supposed to say? What should he do? He realized there wasn’t an easy answer for that. At least not at this current place in time. So he settled for the next best thing he could muster…

“What do you say we take a shower and make each other breakfast?” Clark suggested, cupping Bruce’s face in his hands. He raised Bruce’s head up and kissed him softly. “I make some pretty damn good eggs.”

Clark supposed this is what lovers do on a day to day basis, but this was just a one night stand and the morning after. This isn’t how this is meant to go, especially not with someone like Bruce Wayne. Clark also wasn’t meant to fall in love, if the bubbly feeling in his stomach was anything to go by, that is. Clark had just been lucky for not getting kicked out at the butt crack of dawn. He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure if Bruce really felt that way about him or if he was faking it the whole time. These things don’t happen to someone like Clark.

Bruce made a face at this and Clark thought for a moment that Bruce might say no and finally tell him to get lost. Funny how Bruce had been right about him. He was afraid of getting his heart broken and it was only made worse because of that undefinable look. Clark had a mini panic attack but tried to play it cool as the older man stared at him.

“I mean, if you’re hungry,” Clark tacked on with a hopeful quirk of his lips.

Bruce flashed that award winning smirk of his and that was all it took to dissuade any of Clark’s former hang ups on the whole situation.

“I'm starving,” Bruce concurred, kissing Clark like he meant it.


End file.
